


saving your lovely lies

by AnnoyingBeardMentality



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Medievalstuck, age gap, bro's a bad dude, but bro is still a canon child abuser, mentions of abuse, potentially toxic relationship, someone please give dave a hug and some therapy, the world honestly doesn't deserve john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 17:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnoyingBeardMentality/pseuds/AnnoyingBeardMentality
Summary: King Derrick Strider is an intrinsically bad person. He may not be fully aware of this, but it's plainly obvious in how he acts. Though despite it all, he's still caught the eye of his brother's friend, John. John, who still believes there can be good things and that despite it all, people can change. He believes that Derrick can change. But with a rebellion gradually taking hold, he might begin to see first hand the kind of brutality the king is capable of.





	1. a dark horizon

**Author's Note:**

> TW: verbal abuse, physical abuse

Thirty-two years ago, the heir to the Derse throne was born into the world during the dark hours of the night. He was quiet, so much so at first, he appeared to be stillborn, but as those first cries gradually began to rise out, the kingdom welcomed their new prince with open loving arms. Those thirty-two years ago in Derse, the kingdom was flourishing under his father's rule. There was peace with just about all neighboring kingdoms and trade was abundant. Civilians plump and content, as food shortages were rare back in those days and dissent was minimal. The young prince seemed to have been born into a perfect world, and for once everyone believed that there was hope for things to stay that way. For Prince Derrick of Derse was to be taught by experienced hands to be shaped into the fine king that his father had turned out to be.

As the years went by, Derrick grew up under the queen's watchful eye. While the king was far more kind and caring, especially when it came to his son, she was far more militant. While she loved her husband very much, she thought of him as too soft and wanted her son to grow up to rule with an iron fist. Training came before studies and she silently encouraged him to focus and hone in on his skills with the blade. So, at the age of seven, he first began to train with such a weapon. Naturally, he started out small with dummies and knights training his every movement; though as time wore on, he would begin to spar and duel with squires. Though the young prince repeatedly would get knocked down, he was urged to get back up and block out the pain. To focus. To become strong and lead the kingdom to the potential of all it could be under a harsher rule. If he couldn't, a verbal berating was in store for him, though eventually even that he could block out. The motherly coos and gentleness were alien to the young prince, as with the queen's instructed training, he was used to the words of ice she would instill into him from such a young age. That without strength, he was nothing. That he was a spineless worm not worthy of even the slightest bit of attention. That he deserved nothing in this world, even the love he craved so. He could feel the lack of love from her words biting into his skin, so it began to be approval from her that he needed so dearly. While he longed for the love and affection that his father would shower him in when the king was home from visiting other kingdoms and doing his duties, he was taught to grow a heart of steel at the young age of seven.

Eleven years after his birth, the kingdom welcomed their second prince into the world. Though with the welcome and birth of a new prince, the birth was too hard on the queen's aging body, so in exchange for a new life, an old one was taken. The kingdom mourned the loss of their queen, and the poor new prince wasn't even aware of the fact that he was the cause of her death. The second prince was named David Strider, and it was almost painful how strikingly similar the baby's scarlet eyes resembled the queen's. Prince David likely wouldn't inherit the throne, but the king loved him all the same. Once the queen's body was buried after a two-hour long ceremony that felt like it had lasted for years for Derrick, it felt like the king had simply moved on. Directing the care he had once held for his late wife to the newborn. Giving him the paternal love that Derrick had always wanted from his mother.

The kingdom was fully aware of how close the eldest prince and queen were, even if they never heard the scalding remarks she would so often burn him with. Even though he could recall nights of feeling so alone that the darkness seemed to simply consume him because of those words that had been indoctrinated into him, all the kingdom knew was that the queen had showered her son in maternal love and caring. They didn't know what happened behind those palace walls. Of the repeated laments about what a useless son the queen had received, of the slaps that stung his cheeks when he dared to defend his name against her exasperated slander. But they hadn't been completely wrong about the close relationship they had.

While she was so cruel to him, Derrick still felt the need to care for her. Part of him felt like he almost owed her, in a sense. That if he did better, he could truly earn his worth to her. Despite it all, he still loved his mother, and he couldn't help the burning contempt that gradually began to grow at how easily the king and kingdom as a whole moved on. It was unfair to him. How a woman that had shaped him into the budding warrior he was could mean so little to everyone else. How such a major component to his life could be lost so quickly and how it felt like nobody was batting an eye when in reality, the shock was shared by all, and it was far easier to focus on the good things at a time like this.

As he grew into his teenage years, he grew to be an attractive and athletic young man. His fair skin had tanned from rigorous training sessions with the knights on the palace grounds and his captivating amber eyes held a certain intrigue about them that could pull the average nobleman in when looked at. Locks of shaggy dirty blonde hair grew on his head, though was often pulled back into a small ponytail whenever he managed. Though there was more to him than merely his looks. Through years of training, he proved to be an excellent warrior, often besting even the strongest knights in duels at only the age of seventeen. But as he grew older, his father became more insistent that he focus more on his studies to rule when the king eventually died, so he ultimately began to balance his time between studies and training, and that was it. His dear younger brother, then only a mere child, hardly knew his brother as a person. Advisers and maids in the palace would often take care of the young Prince David while his elder brother largely pretended he didn't exist.

See, the anger that Derrick held for his father had gradually festered to go towards his brother as well. It was no surprise that he had come to blame his younger brother for the loss of their mother, so whenever Derrick was put in charge of taking care of him, he ultimately left him to do whatever he wanted and wander around the palace. Multiple times David had been found in places such as the armory or the stables, and the servants of the house gradually began to fear somewhat for the younger prince considering who's care he was going to be put under when the king died.

Though by far the worst event, the first to come of many, was the day that Derrick's royal adviser found the two dueling in the main hall. Of course, brothers would fight in their own petty ways, but the terrifying part was the fact that the elder prince seemed to be holding back nothing and how he completely disregarded the blatant fear in his younger brother's eyes when he was being knocked around like some kind of rag doll. David was only eight then, standing no chance against the quick and calculated attacks from his nineteen-year-old brother. Thankfully, David had only received minor wounds, nothing lethal. The king was naturally furious, as the way he was raising David seemed to be completely different than how the queen had raised Derrick. His words hit softer than the queen's had, and as Derrick stood there, listening to his father's rant and how red his face had gotten, it was strange how the two had even loved each other at all. They were so different.

That day was only the beginning, however. The days of Derrick ignoring Dave were over. If he had to learn to use a sword by the age of seven, how come Dave was slacking by hardly touching one at the age of eight? While Derrick liked to think of it as training his younger brother, it became somewhat of a cruel beating. The strifes weren't often, as both were largely preoccupied with their studies, though they were often enough to where scoldings from the king became regular for Derrick. Their relationship was strained the more and more obvious that Derrick made his contempt for his younger brother out to be. However, he never showed the source of his hatred. He never spoke a word against his father, as he knew how bad he could make it if he spoke of ill will against the beloved King of Derse. The people loved him and he knew that. He was no idiot, he knew how to be silent about hatred. But when it came to Dave, it was horribly easy to pick on someone weaker than him. He didn't see it as cowardly, he saw it as a form of getting his aggression out and steeling his younger brother to become as much of a warrior as he.

As time wore on, the king grew older and older. His formerly blonde head of hair became white as snow, and his skin so pale it seemed nearly translucent. He eventually didn't have the energy to put up with Derrick's small reign of terror around the castle, and could only hope that his son turned out to be a better ruler than a brother. As the king's health declined, Derrick was given more and more responsibility around the kingdom. Making deals with foreign empires, dealing with noblemen and noblewomen at balls and galas with indifference, seeing over the judgment of criminals and showing to be far less lenient to the average thief than his father was. Those last few months of the king's life were a bitter preview of what the kingdom was in for and the kind of new ruler they were soon to have. A ruler who was merciless and cared none other than that the people of the kingdom fear him rather than love him because in his eyes, being driven by fear got more things done rather than being driven by love. He fully intended to rule the kingdom as their militant ruler, and the citizens were fearful for what was to come for the future.

The night that the King of Derse died was a dark one. Both of his sons were at his sides when the last breath of life slipped past his lips, both princes with steely looks on their faces. Any tears that were to be shed were to be shed in private. That night, the kingdom was mourning. The royal family mourned as well, all two of them, in their own ways. That night, while Dave cried into his pillow, cheeks flushed as tears streamed down his face in despair, Derrick was eagerly thinking about his coronation that was to take place the following day.

Derse was in no way prepared for their king. Their new king. While many were wary of what he was going to do, they had no idea of what he was capable of. They knew not of what kind of destruction he could create with his idea of how he was going to rule. No leniency towards other kingdoms nor his own people. The kingdom was going to become a power that none had ever seen before, and as those whirlwinds of thoughts blew through his head that night, he hardly realized the lack of sadness he held. For instead, he felt hopeful. He could finally put into effect the kind of king that his mother had idealized for him to become. He could finally become the king Derrick believed he was always meant to be.


	2. a curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse

It's winter in the kingdom of Derse. Two years ago, the patriarch of their royal family died tragically of old age, and his son took up his place of the king. His coronation was a lavish event, filled with dark hues of violet and tinges silver, though that is all gone now. Decorations packed up for the next event as the kingdom carried on. Now they're officially under the rule of King Derrick, one of the most militant kings Derse has ever seen. Any sort of uprising that he catches wind of is immediately crushed in bloody scenes. He's content with it, but he's also blissfully unaware of how the people of Derse feel about it. Dave's grown to now be nineteen and is perhaps one of the few people in the palace that doesn't dare speak ill will against his brother behind his back. And while the strifes often occur between the two, he's grown close to him somewhat. He still misses the late king horribly, but Derrick's the last of his family. He can't afford to lose whatever strange brotherly relationship they have, beatings and all. Derrick's somewhat emotionally detached in regards to his younger brother, but over the years, Dave's begun to look up to him. He admires his strength in their fights, and despite he knows that such beatings are unfair on a skill set basis, he's getting better. So that has to mean that Derrick's telling the truth, that he's doing this all to help him keep from being so pathetic. Why would he lie to him?

The air is frigid in the palace, despite the logs burning in just about every fireplace. Snow's gathered outside of the tall windows, and while the snowfall's soft and gentle as of now, the looming clouds that they fell from is warning of an oncoming storm. Weather like this isn't uncommon during this time of the year, but it certainly isn't favored. Those in the kingdom have boarded up their homes at this point to preserve warmth, only going out if they truly need something and rendering most businesses in Derse to have to close as well. Those in the palace, however, are expecting company. A familiar guest from the kingdom of Prospit in the south, one who tends to be always welcome, Prince John Egbert, probably one of Dave's closest friends. They were introduced in childhood, back when they were only about twelve, and have gotten along famously ever since. John visited often, sometimes accompanied by his cousin Jade, sometimes not, but nonetheless, he's always welcomed by Dave with open arms, even if it tends to be rare for him to actually see Derrick.

As a wooden carriage rolls its way to the front of the palace, a young man draped in fine furs just about burst from its doors with eagerness. A lopsided grin is spread across his face as he makes his way towards the looming oak doors of the palace, which open as he haphazardly makes his way up the icy stone steps. Behind him, his own personal servant gathers his luggage as his advisor follows behind him breathlessly. It has been months since John had last seen his dear friend, so naturally, he's just about ecstatic to see him again. One of the many palace butlers holds open the door as he bows to greet the young man before him.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Highness," the older man says as John's lopsided grin grew at the greeting.

"It's been awhile," he nods before looking around, "Now, where's Dave?" 

The other prince is currently fretting over his own looks in his room, completely unaware of John's arrival while the butler fetches a maid to go give him the news. In the meantime, Derrick had been in the parlor when he heard the commotion. The older man smooths out his clothes before strolling over, piercing amber eyes catching sight of the familiar face as he approaches the scene. "Is that you, John?" His voice is smooth and low, a mature baritone that always manages to catch John somewhat by surprise.  The two never really speak much, but nonetheless, he dips his head respectfully, straightening his glasses as he makes an attempt to grasp at an air of formality in his excitement. 

"I'd like to think it is," he responded, unable to maintain that certain formality that there is usually to be upheld when speaking to a king as he straightened back up. It was one of those times where Derrick is reminded that he wasn't exactly the tallest, standing next to the ridiculously tall prince before him. While Derrick stands at an average height of 5'7 with a stockier build, John seems to be the human equivalent of a beanpole. Thin and tall, with hair like a black dandelion: nothing but cowlicks that stick out at random beneath his gold crown upon his head. 

A flicker of a smile finds its way onto the older man's face as he holds out his hand to the other, "It's good to see you again." 

Reaching over and shaking the outstretched hand to him, John nods, "You as well, Your Majesty." 

It would be the understatement of the century to say that King Derrick intimidates him. Despite how easygoing John's currently coming across, the young man is absolutely petrified. Derrick's the one who Dave constantly speaks so highly of, and while he is certain that he had made a good impression on him when he first met him all those years ago, he's still worried that he can somehow mess that up and lose the privilege to see Dave again. Times were fragile between the two kingdoms, he fears that any screwup could ruin everything he's got going for him right now with his trips to Derse. There was also the track record that Derrick has for violence. How much blood the man inadvertently has on his hands from quelling those small riots throughout the kingdom. John's heard all the news about the upsets in Derse, as the two kingdoms correspond frequently despite the growing tensions between the two. 

There's a beat of silence between the two of them as they stand in the doorway. Not quite tense for the king, but to the prince, he felt completely on edge. That was, up until Derrick's gaze just about bore across John's body, his eyes flickering over the other's form almost analytically before returning to his face. "Is your father making you train at all?" Despite his usually monotone voice, there was nearly a...amused tone strung along with it. John didn't really know whether or not to be offended or not. Sure, he's lanky and has a thinner build than most, but he's not  _weak_  like he felt like Derrick seems to be implying.

John hesitates to answer, not entirely sure how to. "Yes...? I mean, I'm a little more involved with politics and dealing with people rather than actual fighting, but I'm not weak!" John can't help but take the defensive on this. He's not weak, he's just...average. Some of the knights can certainly whoop his ass, but there's a higher chance of him debating over political issues rather than charging into battle, from the looks of it. Besides, he still has time up until he's thrust into the role of King of Prospit. Considering his father was pretty young when John was conceived, King James is going to be ruling for a while longer before John becomes king himself.

A small 'hmph' comes from the Strider at the response, "I'm not saying you're weak, really. You could just use a little bit more meat on your bones." The blonde paused for a moment, glancing over John once again before continuing, "If you're ever interested, I can help you train while you're visiting. It might come in handy, you never know." The offer was unlikely to actually be taken up, but Derrick's putting it out there nonetheless. It's not like he doesn't have ulterior motives. Prospit's a potential enemy in these trying times, and he wants to see just how much he can learn from John here. See how much he can get the other to spill.

Before John can respond, however, Dave comes pacing down the hall and into the grand foyer, scarlet eyes briefly flickering between the two before settling on John. Upon catching sight of him, John's face just about lights up as he makes his way over, "Dave! Took you long enough!" His grin remains steady on his face as he pulls the other into a big hug, observed by Derrick passively. The heavy oak doors are slammed shut against the cold as servants are instructed as to where John's servant and advisor are to put his things by the king. Best keep from having too much of an audience anyways. Even if it was as innocent as two friends seeing each other, Derrick finds distaste in having servants around too much. They talk, even if it's about petty things, he likes to keep the whatever happens in the palace cloaked in secrecy. Once the Prospitan entourage made their way out, Derrick then decides that it's perhaps time to leave the two to their own devices. Wouldn't want to intrude on their little play-date anyways. 

"Hell, it's been awhile. If things were less," Dave briefly glances at his brother before turning back to John, "...if I was less busy, I'd come down more." The two split apart as John's hands remain on the other's shoulders, "Don't worry about it, I'm here now, right?"

The king makes his way out of the room as he casually eavesdrops on their conversation, waving an absentminded hand to the two as he leaves, "You two have fun." Derrick has more pressing matters that needed his attention. While Dave has John, Derrick has his own guest to attend to, and she doesn't like to wait too much.

However, John's blue gaze lingers on the king for a moment before returning to Dave. Derrick sure is an enigma to him, and he can't help but wonder a little what that offer's even about. 

* * *

The two young men lounge comfortably in front of one of the large fireplaces, one that's probably big enough to fit them and about three other people inside all at once. Outside, the wind's picked up to a howl as snow piles up higher against the intricate details of the stained glass. Pillows hued with violet and silver are scattered about the room, giving it a look of luxurious chaos while the two princes chatter mindlessly. John's lying on his stomach next to his glass of mulled mead, arms stretched out in front of him as his fingertips barely brush against the hem of the pillow Dave's sitting on across from him. His cloak's been discarded somewhere at this point, and underneath that he wears a sky blue shirt that hangs rather loosely on his form, a color that pops against the wine-colored pillows he's currently lying on. He's dressed rather simply today, as he does on most of his visits. It's only visits between friends, it's not like he's trying to impress the entire kingdom of Derse.  

They've been chatting amicably beforehand, catching up with stories about what has been going on in their respective homes. John telling Dave of Jade and how she's been becoming quite the political figure for Prospit and how he can't help but envy her a little bit for her people skills. Then there's Dave telling John of similar things like training and his lessons with his advisor. It's all so...domestic. It's nice really, other than the tension hanging in the air. At this point, they're both fully aware of how their guardians feel about each other. King James of Prospit thinks of Derrick to be a man with the mentality of a spoiled boy who relies on impulse rather than logic, one who only thinks of himself in dire situations. Derrick seems to the king of Prospit to be a decrepit old man who was far too generous for his own good, weak for letting people stay in the jails rather than made an example of by public executions. These tensions are the reason why John's been visiting less and less, and both princes were concerned for the day that John simply didn't come back, whether it be from being attacked by enemy forces (from either of their kingdoms) or for James and Derrick not allowing such a thing to happen.

Looking down at the pillow he's sitting on, Dave's fingers pick at its embroidery with a slight sigh. The tension felt nearly suffocating to him at this point, as it has been doing with a lot of things as of late. He can't place where it's coming from, but it feels like he's slowly being choked out by...everything. Like it's all so overwhelming and he doesn't know why.

But like hell is he going to mention that aloud. Personal problems are to remain personal. Derrick told him that burdening other people with such issues was weak, and to Dave, Derrick's word is law. Even if that law is what's built Dave's self-destructive attitude.

Suddenly, a hand is placed on Dave's knee, and the blonde looks up sharply, seeing John partially sitting up with his brows knit in concern. John was in the middle of talking and Dave had completely spaced off, bringing a concern to his friend.

"Hey...are you alright?" John's worried about his best friend sometimes, especially as of late with everything that's been going on, "You seem out of it..." 

Feeling his face heat up, Dave nudges his knee out from under John's hand before nodding, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" His tone has taken more of the offense than he wants to admit, but he can't help it. He's not weak, and he's  _certainly_  not going to bother John with his issues. He was a better friend than that, and he's more than certain that John doesn't want to hear about that kind of stuff from him.

Pulling his hand back, John pulls himself up into a seated position on the pile of pillows he'd been lying on as he adjusts his glasses. "I don't know, but if you need to talk about something, you know you can talk to me about it, right? You're my best friend, and I want you to be ok." Briefly, John can't help but wonder if it's Derrick that Dave was thinking about, and how he's starting so much conflict with other kingdoms. It would make sense to John, but judging how Dave borderline idolizes him, he swiftly pushes that thought from his head. 

"I know," Dave nods, "But it really is nothing, alright?" 

John's not convinced.

"Is it because I can't visit that often?" the brunette presses, "Because I'm trying to talk him into letting me become like a representative from Prospit here so I can-"

"Stop," Dave's voice is louder than intended, and for a split second, it looks like it's shocked him too, but he continues, "It's not that. I'm fine, alright? I know you're worried about me, but I'm alright. You're wasting your time."

John tries to protest because it's so painfully obvious to him that Dave is in fact _not_  as ok as he's trying to come across as, "But-"

"I said I'm  _fine_. End of discussion." 

John opens his mouth to argue, wanting to point out all the very reasons that he can't possibly be alright considering how he was acting, but he closes it after a moment. That wouldn't help. There's very much the possibility of this being his last time seeing him, and he doesn't want to leave on a bad note or leave with Dave holding any ill will against him. He cares about the other too much to let that happen. So sighing a bit, he gives a small nod, "Alright, fine."

A heavy silence fills the room, the only sounds heard being the now roaring wind outside and the flicker of the fire. The room's warm, but Dave feels like he was freezing. He almost feels guilty for making things like this, but opening up just isn't an option for him. He can't let himself do that because the idea of John thinking less to him is probably one of the worst things he can think about right now. After a moment, he stands with a sigh. "I'll be right back, I think we're snowed in, but I'm gonna go check." He needs anything to escape the room of anxiety he seems to have built, and before John can say anything in response, the blonde's already making his way out of the room and leaving John silent among the dark pillows.

"...Alright then." John huffs, finishing his drink before standing as well. As much as Dave seems to want him not to worry about anything going on with him, he can't help but be concerned anyway. He can't just ignore what was going on with his friend. Things seem to all be going to hell right now though. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get his father to let him come to Derse this time and he's scared that next time he won't budge so easily. 

So to be completely frank?

John's scared.

He's scared of Prospit and Derse going to war. He's scared of whatever's happening to Dave and losing him because of it. 

Looking out the window, he notes how much the snow had piled up and guessed that he will probably have to spend a couple more days here than he originally thought. Good. It gives him more time to figure out whatever's going on in the palace, because judging by the way Dave was acting, it's more than just him being 'fine'. There's more going on here, and he fully intends to figure out just what it was. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this early because honestly??? I have never been more on board for writing a fic in my life and I am having a grand old time with tres angsty boys. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving this a read! I really appreciate it!


End file.
